


Karaoke Night

by frecklesarechocolate



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Karaoke, M/M, Prompt Fic, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-11
Updated: 2013-05-11
Packaged: 2017-12-11 13:06:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/799068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frecklesarechocolate/pseuds/frecklesarechocolate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Team Free Will sings karaoke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Karaoke Night

“Karaoke?” Dean asked.

“Karaoke,” Sam replied.

Dean shook his head. “Karaoke?”

Sam grimaced, patented bitch face number 7. “Yes, Dean, that’s what I said. Look, it’s just for one evening, and I think it would be fun. C’mon, you love music.”

“I love music performed by professionals, Sam. I love real music, not… drunken, sloppy singing to odd remixes of once cool songs.” Dean picked his book up and started to read again.

Sam threw his hands up in the air. “Whatever, dude. If you don’t want to come with, that’s fine. It’ll just be me and Cas then.”

Dean looked up. “Cas is going?”

Sam smiled. _Got you_ , he thought. “Yep. Me and Cas are going to karaoke night in town, but since you obviously don’t want to go…” Sam walked out of the room.

Dean slammed the book shut and got out of his chair, tripping after Sam. “Wait! You said karaoke! I thought you meant something different…”

Which is how they found themselves at the local bar on a Saturday night, drinking _Dos Equis_ and waiting for their turn at the karaoke machine. Cas sipped his beer lightly, enjoying the rowdy and fun atmosphere. He was doing his best to ignore Sam and Dean, who were at the moment bickering about the choice of music.

“Aw, c’mon, Sam, Jason Manns? Really? What about…I know, what about Ozzy? Ozzy’s great. _Crazy Train_?”

Sam made a face. “I don’t think so, Dean. Not my first choice. Or my third or my fifth, before you say anything else.” Sam took a drink of his beer. “Besides, crazy? Really?”

Dean at the decency to look a little abashed at that, and he flipped through the book some more. “Oh, okay, how about this one? _Pour Some Sugar On Me_? Def Leppard? Awesome song, man.”

“Dude, that song is just… kinda lame. No.”

“You’re lame,” Dean muttered.

“I heard that.” Sam turned the page. “What about this one?” He pointed at the page.

“No.”

“But…” Sam started.

“No. Richie Valens? No. _Donna’s_ too sappy, and my Spanish is not good enough for _La Bamba_ . Plus, NO.” Another few page turns and then Dean’s face lightened. “How about _Girls Girls Girls_? This is an awesome song.”

Sam looked over Dean’s shoulder. “Motley Crüe? I don’t think so, Dean.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Dude, this was your idea. You can’t just shoot down every song I suggest.”

Sam, who had just taken a sip of his beer, nearly choked. “You’re shooting down everything _I_ suggest! What the hell, Dean?”

Cas pushed off the stool he’d been leaning on to peer at the binder between the two brothers. “What about that song that you guys like to sing in the car?” Though it was loud in the room, Cas was still able to make his deep voice heard.

“Which one, Cas?” Dean asked. He tried not to think about how close the angel was standing to him.

“The one with the nonsense words. About the boy singing to his mother.”

Sam’s eyebrows lifted out of the frown they’d been cemented in since they got to the bar, and Dean cocked his head to the side with a grin. “Cas, that’s perfect. Sammy, go order us up some Queen.” Dean slapped Cas on the back. “You’re gonna join us, right, Cas?” He slid his hand down Cas’s back and only reluctantly let it fall to his side.

Cas squinted his eyes and drew his brows together. “I’m not sure…”

Dean slung his arm over Cas’s shoulder. “C’mon Cas, it’ll be fun.”

Cas did not look convinced; nevertheless, he nodded slowly. It was rare to see such enthusiasm on Dean’s face, and he didn’t want to be the one to drive that away. Sam came back, grinning, and told them it would be a few minutes.

They sat through three other singers of dubious quality, and then they heard the DJ say, “Oh, awesome song! Team Free Will, you’re up!”

Dean, surprised, burst into laughter. Sam started to head toward the stage, with Dean following behind. He turned back when he realized that Cas wasn’t right behind him, and grabbed onto Cas’s hand. He squeezed lightly and pulled Cas with him.

They started out raggedy. “Is this the real life…” Cas fidgeted uncomfortably at Dean’s side, uncertain where to look. He sang the lines just behind Sam and Dean. Soon, however, all three of them were singing out as loudly as possible, and the crowd had joined them. “So you think you can stop me and spit in my eye…”

By the time the song ended, they were grinning at each other, breathless but happy, and they made their way back to their table amidst a huge round of applause. People slapped their backs as they went, and one adventurous young woman slipped in front of Cas and kissed him on the mouth.

“Come on, Casanova,” Dean said gruffly, placing his palm on Cas’s back and steering him to their booth. Cas looked slightly stunned, and there was a smudge of bright pink lipstick on the side of his mouth. Dean stared at it for several long seconds before picking a napkin up off the table and handing it to Cas. Cas looked at the napkin quizzically, and then at Dean, who rolled his eyes and grabbed it back again. He dipped the corner into the glass of water and rubbed the lipstick off Cas’s face.

Cas touched the side of his mouth with his fingers lightly. “Thank you, Dean.”

They finished their beers and had another round, clapping and whistling loudly when a pair of women expertly belted their way through _Hit Me With Your Best Shot_. They brought the house down, and most people began to leave shortly thereafter, feeling there was no way to compete with that performance.

Dean, Cas, and Sam tumbled out into the parking lot with the rest of the crowd and piled into the Impala. When they returned to the bunker, Sam headed back into his room; stifling a yawn that was so large it could swallow a small terrier.

 “Dude, you’ve got no stamina,” Dean said to Sam’s retreating back. Sam held up his middle finger.

Dean sprawled out on the couch, chuckling over something or other, and Cas perched on the edge next to Dean. Cas pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket and looked at it.

 “Whatcha got there, Cas?” Dean asked. Cas handed it over with a shrug. Dean’s eyebrows rose toward his hairline as he examined it. “It’s some girl’s phone number. You gonna call her? Get some more action?” Dean tried to look like he was excited for Cas, really he did, but somehow he couldn’t quite muster the right level of enthusiasm. The look Cas gave him said that Cas was more than aware of that fact.

“I don’t think so, Dean,” Cas said, and he continued to just look at Dean, who grew increasingly uncomfortable beneath the scrutiny. While Dean was used to Cas’s staring – he _should be_ for cryin’ out loud, it had been going on for nearly five years now – this seemed to be a whole new level of staring, and Dean wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“Why not?” Dean finally asked, licking his lips.

Cas continued to stare for another long moment before rolling his eyes. He leaned forward, propping himself up on his hands, moving until he was hovering over Dean. “Because I came home with the person that I wanted to ‘get some action with.’”

“Oh,” Dean said, and he couldn’t quite help the smile that tugged the corners of his lips upward. “Yeah? So, um…”

“Shut up, Dean,” Cas said and he closed that last little bit of space between them and kissed Dean, who, being very much on board with the plan, kissed Cas back. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Crossposted on my [Tumblr](http://deanhugchester.tumblr.com) and LiveJournal.


End file.
